


Hey Now (This Is What Dreams Are Made Of)

by PinkToby



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Clothing Kink, Dirty Talk, Embarrassment, First Time, Hand Jobs, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Unconvential Therapy Techniques, Wet Dream, come for the smutty storyline but stay for the dumb humorous one-liners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 11:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1225000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkToby/pseuds/PinkToby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will gets a rude awakening after a particularly steamy dream involving his psychiatrist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (I couldn't resist the Lizzie McGuire pun!)  
> The first chapter starts with two of my favorite things: with porn and italics.

_“Tell me, William, are you enjoying yourself?”_

_Hannibal Lecter’s voice is thick as honey and twice as sweet to Will Graham’s ears as the younger man throws his head back and whines. He is seated atop the doctor’s lap, his bare knees wedged between Hannibal’s still-clothed hips and the arms of the leather armchair Hannibal typically occupies during therapy sessions. Even with a hand wrapped around Will’s throbbing cock, he manages to appear professional as always._

_“Yes, oh, oh God, yes!” His enthusiasm brings a smirk to Hannibal’s lips.     In this moment, there is no reason for Will to keep quiet. There are no other patients, no Freddie Lounds waiting outside the door with a recording device—only Hannibal existed, only Hannibal and his office and his fucking brilliant hands teasing his flesh._

_“You’re being so good for me, Will,” Hannibal purrs, tightening his grip on Will’s cock and watching the younger man arch his back. It’s better, but not quite the amount of friction he needs. Hannibal must have every intention of making him beg for release, and Will is fairly certain that he’ll cave in no time. It’s simply_ too damn good, _and it’s been_ so damn long _since anyone touched him like this…_

 _His_ _free hand grasps the back of Will’s neck and pulls him close, so that their foreheads are resting against each other. Not a hair has gone astray, no wrinkles are present on his perfect suit, he is just as prim and perfect as always—even as Will is sweating and swearing on his thighs._

_“Such a good boy,” he whispers against Will’s lips, “You’ve been lusting after me for such a long time, haven’t you? You think I can’t tell how badly you want me during our sessions, but I have known of your intentions since the very beginning. I can always smell the longing on you…”_

_“Yes, Doctor Lecter, so long, I’ve wanted…I’ve needed…”_

_“I know, I know…and you’re quite a mess, aren’t you? It makes me wonder… Has anyone else ever touched you like this?”_

_“No, um, I mean…” Will turns his head to the side in shame, “Once…when I was…s-seventeen…her name was Shelby…but I didn’t cum…I-I couldn’t…”_

_“She was too clumsy, hm? Or perhaps you were too nervous…” he continues to stroke Will determinedly, the firm grip of his closed hand teasing the warm and heavy flesh jutting out from between the younger man’s thighs. “Were you ashamed of your inability to orgasm, Will? Did you go home after, half-hard and frustrated, only rut against your sheets to seek the relief that young woman’s hand wasn’t able to give you?”_

_“Y-yes, I…“ His cheeks redden from the memory of wetness on his tear-stained pillow and the way his hips ground against the firmness of his twin-sized mattress. The way Hannibal had described it, though…the shame of it all sends a jolt down his spine._

_“Yes,” Will growls, mind scrambled by sensation and unable to care about being proper anymore, “went home and fucked into my bed…came in my pants like a slut.”_

_“Tsk, such language. Either way, I promise to make this experience much more satisfying than your last.”_

_Will’s hips are rocking back and forth across his psychiatrist’s lap, and he savors the light scratch of fabric against his heated flesh. When he feels Hannibal’s free hand reach around and grip his ass, he keens and thrusts faster. He can feel his body tense up, can feel the sweat break out between his shoulder blades, and he knows he’s close to his release._

_“You’re close,” Hannibal says, moving his thumb to swipe a drop of fluid from the tip of his leaking cock. Will groans at the feeling and grips at plaid-patterned lapels with desperate fists, mouthing a litany of desperate ‘yes’s’ into the other man’s neck._

_“You’re going to leave an awful mess on my suit, William.”_

_“Good,” Will pants, “I want to ruin you…want to knock you off that fucking pedestal and make you human like the rest of us…oh, fuck, I want to see you dirty and…and fucked-out, and…”_

_“You naughty thing,” Hannibal interrupts him, fingernails biting into his hips and a diamond-glint in his eye, “Well, go on, Will—ruin me.”_

_“H-Hannibal, I—“_

_“Now, Will. Do it now.”_

_“Oh, God—“_

               -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

               “Will, is everything alright?”

               Will Graham’s body convulses on top of sweat-damp sheets. His orgasm is strong, the force of it making him gasp as a familiar wetness spreads across the fabric of his shorts—that’s the _second_ time this week, and—

              “Will? Can you hear me?”

              He looks up to see that the ever-put-together (even in his _damn pajamas!)_ Doctor Hannibal Lecter standing in the doorway of his—wait a minute, this isn’t _his_ room. The sheets are too soft, the bed too big, and— _are those satin curtains hanging on the wall?_ Where the hell _is_ he?

_Wait a minute._

             It’s all coming back to him in a flood of memory. He had been invited to dinner, dessert had been chocolate something-or-other with fresh raspberries, then drinks in front of the fireplace… It had been snowing all evening, and Hannibal had insisted he stay the night so he didn’t have to drive back to Wolf Trap in the middle of a storm and— _oh no._

            This _could not_ be happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, what do you think Will should ask Hannibal?  
> Drop me some suggestions at mean-cannibals.tumblr.com/ask


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will tries to hide what happened, but can he fool the cunning Doctor?
> 
> Probably not.

“Your name is Will Graham,” his psychiatrist soothes, “it is half-past midnight, and you are in my home in Baltimore.”

The highly-composed man is still lingering in the doorway, and Will is eternally grateful that the bunched up down comforter is there to conceal the source of his shame. Maybe, if he plays his cards right, he could mislead him? Unlikely. It would be damn near impossible to lie to Doctor Lecter—he would be able to tell right away. Perhaps half-truths, then?

“Believe me, Doctor Lecter, I am _painfully_ aware of my current location at the moment…” Will swallows, trying to ignore the still-warm wetness in his pants. This is about as far away from an ideal situation as he’s ever been—in fact, if he had been simply an outsider watching the scene unfold, he’d chuckle at the absurdity of it all. _Like waking up in some kind of bad porno…_

“Is that so? This is good news…although you do not seem very happy about it.” It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Will is disturbed by something, and unfortunately, Doctor Lecter _is_ kind of a genius anyways… _Yeah, no…I am definitely screwed_.

“I…I had a dream.” _Not a lie. That’s good._

“Was it another nightmare?” Hannibal moves towards him as he speaks, causing Will to cringe. He nearly groans in protest when the other man sits down on the edge of the bed. _Not good._ Will isn’t sure he could handle physical contact at this point, especially from the literal man of his dreams.

_No, **this** is a nightmare…_

“I, uh—something like that.” Will tries to shift away from the man—literally, _the man of his dreams_ , but he has nowhere to go. Damn the headboard, damn the wall. He is completely at the other man’s mercy.

“But you are still uncomfortable with the content of your dream?” Will nods. With his hands in his lap like that, Hannibal looks every bit the gentleman, even though his normal suit has been replaced by a dark blue (or black? It’s too dark to tell…) pair of pajamas. If there is such a thing as ‘formal sleepwear,’ then Hannibal fits the bill.

“Doctor Lecter, I really don’t feel comfortable discussing this…”

“Will, something is obviously weighing heavily on your mind. I think we should discuss it.”

“No, we _really_ shouldn’t.”

“And why is that? Not only am I a psychiatrist, but I am also your friend. Who better to help you with your problems than me, hm?”

“I don’t…it would complicate things.” He takes a deep breath. “Seriously, Hannibal, just go back to bed. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Are things not already complicated between you and I?” Hannibal gives a wry smile, “Come now, Will, don’t make me guess.”

“Dammit, Hannibal…” He sucks in a deep breath of cool nighttime air and he just _knows_ he’s going to regret this, but he continues, “Alright, since you won’t give this up, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you have one guess as to what’s going on, and if you’re right, I’ll talk about it.”

“And if I am unable to guess the correct answer?”

“If you can’t get it, you’re gonna go back to bed and leave me the hell alone.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” Hannibal says, “but let’s raise the stakes a little. I do love a good wager, and the night is still relatively young...”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Suppose I come up with the correct answer on the first try? I believe that warrants…something extra. Compensation for an extraordinary feat, shall we say?”

“Get to the point.”

“If I get it on the first try, you will let me treat you however I see fit.”

“What? I—You know what? Fine.” _Whatever it takes for you to get out of this room and leave me to my shame._

“Excellent.” It’s as close to beaming as Will had ever seen Hannibal, and it is just as unnerving as it is amusing. “First thing’s first: do I have your permission to touch you?”

“No, you do not.” There is absolutely _no way_ in _any_ of Dante’s nine circles of Hell that Will is going to have Hannibal touching right now.

“What a shame. It shall be very difficult to determine your heart rate without establishing physical contact.” He ponders for a moment, before snapping back into a slight smile. “No matter. I’ll simply have to consider other factors.”

He is silent then, for a moment or two. His scrutinizing eyes scan Will’s face while Will avoids his gaze. It’s terribly nerve-wracking to be examined in this way.

“Your pupils are dilated…skin flushed… You’ve been sweating, which isn’t surprising, since you frequently suffer from night sweats.” Hannibal looks up, as if all the information he has gotten from Will is being written across the ceiling, forming an equation that will ultimately be the answer he’s looking for.

“You were vocal, although I couldn’t understand what you were saying most of the time—except for the few times you called out my name. I find that most intriguing.”

“I’m sure you do. Now, come on, profiling time is over. Give me your guess.”

“Just a moment,” Hannibal says, “I would like to confirm one more thing…”

“What more could you possibly—“

Will is cut off by the sound of a deep intake of breath, an earth-shattering _sniiiiiiiiiff_ and he knows, _he knows_ that he has lost. The man can smell _cancer_ —there’s _no way_ he’d miss the scent of sticky semen in Will’s soiled shorts.

“ _Oh Will_ ,” Hannibal tuts, and a knowing smile perches itself atop his lips. Will’s face burns with embarrassment, and he can barely bring himself to look in the other man’s general direction, “Nocturnal emissions are nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I forgot about the freaky smelling thing…” Will mumbles to himself as he wipes a hand down his face. “But, uh, yeah. Bravo. You hit the nail on the head.”

“Although I am ecstatic about winning out little wager…” Hannibal’s pregnant pause allows just a touch of gloating to the statement, “I am not, however, happy that you are uncomfortable. If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll be back with a change of clothes…”

He is striding out of the room before Will has a chance to protest. Fingers twisting in the sheets, Will considers all the possible, terrifying ways this exchange could end. _What the hell have I gotten myself into? What’s Hannibal going to say if—no, not if—when he finds out that I was dreaming of him? What if he’s disgusted? Oh, God, what if he’s INTERESTED? And, wait a minute, he said he was going to get me a change of clothes? Like, HIS clothes? Oh my God, am I going to be wearing the man’s underwear? What if—_

“I believe these will suffice for the time being.” Hannibal’s voice breaks Will out of his frantic train of thought as a neatly folded pair of pants is placed on the bed next to him. Will touches the fabric—they soft, not silk as he expected, but comforting.

“Uh, thanks…” Will replies.

“Coincidentally, I have a few pieces of clothing that need to be laundered as well, so I’ll just put your things in with mine. I hate to trouble you, but would you mind bringing the basket down to the kitchen when you’re ready? I’m sure you’d rather I didn’t wait outside the door for you to change…”

Will mumbles some kind of thanks, wishing, pleading, _praying_ for Hannibal to finally _leave him alone_ , and perhaps some great deity heard him, because the older man gives a nod and is out the door within three strides.

The moment the door clicks shut, Will is throwing off the covers to inspect the damage. Unable to see very well in the dark, he flicks on the bedside lamp and braces himself for whatever God-awful mess that awaits his eyes. The yellowish glow burns at first, but through a squinted gaze he is able to see that the sheets have not been damaged—at least, not enough to notice right away.

His pants, however, are a different story.

“Motherfucker,” he spits, carefully sliding the garment down his legs. The tacky coolness of drying cum has to be one of his least favorite feelings in the entire world, and he’s sure to pull an extra sour face as the fabric unsticks from his thighs.

“You just _had_ to do this tonight, didn’t you?” Will fumes as he reaches for the box of tissues from atop the bedside table. Snatching 1, 2, 3, he begins cleaning the pearly mess from between his legs. He glares at the now-limp cock between his legs and begins to seethe with anger.

“I would’ve been fine if you did this last night, or maybe even tomorrow night, but _nooooo_ , you had to—“ Will freezes and takes a long, figurative look at himself. _Oh my God I am talking to my penis. Why? Why am I doing this? Wha—no. No. We’re not doing this. Get it together, Graham._

When he finally finishes getting the worst of it off his skin—a little bit of saliva may or may not have been used to get the more dried areas off, since he may or may not have wanted to sully Hannibal’s pristine bathroom with his filth—he slips on the clean pants and sighs. They’re just as comfortable as he imagined they’d be, and upon looking at the fabric in the light, he discovers the dark forest green color is flattering against his skin tone. _If that wasn’t intentional on Hannibal’s part, I’ll eat my own damn socks._

He picks up his soiled shorts with a sigh. He runs a tissue along the inside, trying to get the worst of the mess cleaned up, but it doesn’t do much good. There is no hiding what had happened—he only hopes that Hannibal does not mention anything about the amount of semen produced or something completely ebarassing like that.

Opening the door, he tosses his pants into a modestly-filled laundry basket and sighs once more.

_This is not going to be a fun time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH NO NOW THEY'RE GONNA TALK ABOUT IT OH MERCY ME  
> (hope you guys liked it!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal begin to talk, as per the agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, i split the talking stuff in half because i wanted to give you guys something to tide you over...and idk i'm playing god here it's a swell time

“Ah, Will, thank you for bringing that down for me. I’ll get these washed right away.”

The moment Will sets foot on the tiled kitchen floor, Hannibal gently snatches up the laundry basket from his arms and whisks it away to a room just off the kitchen—no doubt that’s where the washing machine is. Will shrugs and swallows down the blush that threatens to creep up his neck. _No, dammit, I am going to be mature about this. Hannibal is both a psychiatrist and a doctor of medicine—this CANNOT be the worst thing he’s ever dealt with._

Will approaches the stainless steel island in the middle of the room, his feet sticking to the floor with every step. Two tumblers of whiskey sit side by side, glasses cool and crystalline, no doubt freshly poured. Hannibal had probably listened for his footsteps before filling each glass, so they would be as fresh as possible. _Of course, at the rate I’m going, I’ll need the whole bottle…_

__________________________________________________________________________

“Now,” Hannibal says in a cool and collected tone, “I believe the terms of our wager stated that we would talk about your… episode, yes?”

“Yes…and I’d answer all your questions and such. Ready when you are, Doc.”

“Excellent.”

Each man occupies a high-backed armchair in front of a slow-burning fire. Surprisingly enough, Will has not yet touched his whiskey. Hannibal has taken a polite sip or two of his own—after spending a moment and a deep breath appreciating the fine color and scent of the alcohol—but does not mention the fact that Will’s glass is still untouched.

“Do you often ejaculate in your sleep, Will?”

Hannibal’s face remains calm with his questioning—even though Will looks like he just performed cunnilingus on a fresh-cut lemon. _Of course he’d be so forward, he’s not the type to beat around the bush. Couldn’t he at least pretend to be embarrassed or awkward or…something other than stoic?_

“Does twice a week count as often?” He gulps down half of his whiskey— _so much for saving it for later_. “Give or take, of course. I’m not exactly in the habit of writing it down.”

“That would be considered often, yes. I take it this has been going on for a while, then?”

“Six months? Hell, I don’t know…”

“And, yet, you haven’t felt the need to mention this during our regular sessions.” Hannibal takes another sip, “Why is that?”

“I, uh…” Will gulps, “I don’t really talk about…that…stuff. With anyone. Uh, I…never have.”

“Not even with your past sexual partners?” Hannibal notices the way Will fidgets at the term ‘sexual partners,’ and it’s plain to see that the man is horribly embarrassed, “Will, I am not going to judge you by the number of intimate encounters-“

“Don’t have any. My virginity is still…firmly intact. And before you ask, I’m not ‘saving myself for marriage’ or anything; I just…haven’t trusted anyone with the task, I guess.” He tosses back the rest of his whiskey, _because this is too weird to be sober for_ , and half-drops the empty glass on a coastered end table.

“By ‘virginity’ I believe you’re referring to abstinence from vaginal or anal penetration—at least, that is the most common definition given by my patients.” A pause. “Have you ever engaged in oral sex, for example?”

“No, _nonono_ , I’ve never-“ He gulps. “Look, I…when I was in high school, there was…there was a girl…” _Shit, this is difficult._

“What was her name?”

“Shelby, uh—I, I never knew her last name.”

“Did Shelby reject your advances?”

“Wha-? No, actually, she—ah, she came to me.”

“Very well,” Will catches the edge of Hannibal’s lip twitching into a smirk. _Wait, is that amusement? Or Hannibal’s way of saying ‘you sly devil, you?’_

“Aw, screw it,” Will sighs, twisting the hem of his shirt between his fingers, “I ended up at some kid’s party—had my first beer, hated it at the time—and they started playing some weird ‘seven minutes in heaven’ slash ‘spin the bottle’ game. I decided to join in, just for the hell of it, and…yeah...through some kind of divine intervention, I got paired up.”

“I imagine you were very excited.”

“Yeah, I guess. But mostly terrified.” Another sigh. “We went into the closet and she just kind of… It was baptism by fire, really. My pants were being unbuttoned at the same time I was having my first kiss, so…”

The next part is where it becomes increasingly more difficult.

“Um, by…by the time she, y’know…got it out, I… I was aroused enough, no problem in that department, but… I…” _Oh, my God, this is literally the worst conversation I have ever been a part of._

“You were unable to climax?”

“Yeah, uh…that…I… I went home after that, never saw her again.” He chuckles, then, trying to lighten the mood. “And thus ends the tale of my extensive sordid past.”

“It is not uncommon for a man—or a woman, for that matter—to have difficulty reaching orgasm. You admitted to being nervous, and nervousness can affect sexual response immensely. I imagine that was the cause of your problem.”

“Yeah, well, I just thought there was something wrong with me… Spent the rest of the night jerking off into my sheets to prove that I wasn’t-”

Before he can finish the sentence, he slaps a hand over his mouth and resists the urge to break down into a sobbing mess. He can feel his cheeks burning red and bright, and he only hopes that the room is dark enough to hide the worst of it.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry, I-“

“Will,” Hannibal places a hand on his shoulder and offers a comforting smile. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Uh…” Will is conflicted. While he enjoys the feel of Hannibal’s hand on him, he doesn’t want to be touched while shame still burns bright on his every feature.

“Might I interest you in another drink? Judging by your current state, I believe you could use one.”  

_No fucking shit, I—_

“Yeah, uh, that’d be good,” Will says, and Hannibal stands to retreat to the kitchen. Oddly enough, the man did not take Will’s empty glass— _perhaps we’re moving on to something different?_ _One can never tell with this guy_.

Will slumps in the chair a little and stares at the fire. _Perhaps I could just jump in there and burn to death while Hannibal is doing God-knows-what in the kitchen. Anything to escape this devil’s bargain. I never should’ve agreed to his terms in the first place…_

The light shuffle of slippered feet entering the room brings Will back to reality—the doctor is approaching, mostly-filled bottle of whiskey in hand, and sets it down on the table between them.

“Now,” he asks, resuming his place in the armchair opposite Will, “where were we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT CHAPTER: "Let's Talk About Will's Current Masturbatory Habits And Watch Him Squirm!"
> 
> By the way, suggestions are always welcome...just drop 'em in the comments or submit them at my tumblr (mean-cannibals.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> Hope you liked! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The talk continues.

“Doctor Lecter, are you trying to get me drunk?”

Hannibal fills Will’s tumbler with twice as much alcohol as before. _I really must be looking terrible if he brought the entire bottle._

“Whatever would give you that idea?” Hannibal replies with a smirk, placing the bottle back on the table—a fraction of an in closer to Will than himself. It’s an open invitation, urging Will to help himself, all without saying a word.

“If you must know,” Hannibal continues, “One could consider this a preemptive strike. Your discomfort with my previous questions was glaringly apparent, and I’m afraid you’ll only be even more embarrassed by our next topic. I assumed a little liquid courage would ease the conversation along.”

“Or it could help me forget this conversation ever happened…” He gulps down the entire drink at once—barely more than a comfortable mouthful, but still with plenty of burn and kick—and sets the now-empty glass down. “Go on, then. Do your worst.”

“Very well, then.” Hannibal waits a beat, perhaps for Will to change his mind and protest, but Will does not yield. “Would you be so kind as to describe your masturbatory practices? I find it highly unlikely that you would go nearly twenty years without some kind of sexual stimulation—outside of your dreams, of course.”

“Well, yeah, I mean…” Will reaches for the bottle again— _oy vey, this is going to be fun_ —and pours himself a generous measure. “I, uh, I’ve gotten myself off before. Within the past twenty years.”

“I’m glad to hear it. How long has it been since the last time you participated in self-stimulation?”

“It’s…it’s been a while.” Will gulps, “I mean, I’ve tried, but…”

“But?”

 _Motherfucker, here we go_ …

“I, uh…I started getting panic attacks. Seeing things. Y’know, during…” He makes a vague hand gesture to convey his meaning for good measure. _Please, please, please don’t make me say the word ‘masturbate.’ I can’t handle it._

“What kind of things do you see, Will?”

“Nightmares. I see death…and, and blood…”

“Do you find yourself aroused by your hallucinations?”

“Wha-? Oh, God no.” He takes a sip of whiskey. “I mean, different strokes for different folks, but… Personally, I fail to see what’s arousing about the corpse of Garrett Jacob Hobbs.”

“Perhaps you hallucinated that Garrett Jacob Hobbs was present because you desire to be closer to him, to understand him better.”

“No, that is the exact _opposite_ of what I want. And it only happened once,” Will huffed, “I stopped trying after that.”

“The lack of regular satisfaction might be the reason for your nocturnal emissions.” Hannibal stares into the fire for a moment, deep in thought. “As for the panic attacks, your brain may be confusing the signs of arousal with fear. Elevated heart rate, labored breathing, adrenaline rush… It’s possible that you are subconsciously confusing the two.”

“Makes sense…”

“I agree.”

The two men sit in silence for a moment. Perhaps it is the calming power of liquor on his senses, but Will feels as though he has been handling the situation very well, considering the circumstances.

“Of course, we have been avoiding the proverbial ‘elephant in the room,’ I’m afraid.” Hannibal pours himself another drink as he speaks, the words flowing from his lips as whiskey flows from the bottle. “You called my name out twice during your dream—most likely right before or during orgasm.”

_Ah yes, this is how I shall greet Death: in my therapist’s pajama pants during a whiskey-punctuated discussion about my sexual desires._

“I do not expect you to divulge any details at this time,” Hannibal says after a drawn-out sip from his glass, “However, I would not be offended if I was featured in any sexual fantasy you may or may not have. Attraction does not always follow societal norms—the same way that you and I are different from the general population. There are no rules, Will—only guidelines.”

_Wait, what the hell does that even mean?_

“Uh…okay?” Will gulps down the rest of his drink—he’s beginning to feel very sleepy—and stifles a yawn.

“Forgive me, I’ve kept you up far too late.” Hannibal downs the rest of his drink, perhaps a tad too quickly to properly enjoy the taste. Will is too tired to care. “I appreciate your cooperation, and I shall formulate a plan to help your particular problem. You are free to retire, if you wish.”

“Oh, uh, okay…” Will does not need to be told twice. He stumbles up from the chair— _that whiskey must’ve been stronger than I thought_ —and begins to exit the room. Before he reaches the door, though, he turns and offers a quick goodnight, and takes the stairs two at a time on his way back to the guest bedroom.

After he’s sure that Will has left the room, Hannibal stands to collect the three-quarters empty bottle and two tumblers. Their talk had gone surprisingly well—in fact, he is downright _pleased_ with their little heart-to-heart. He smiles a dastardly smile.

Tonight is only the beginning…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy oh boy oh boy  
> the next chapter or two is gonna kick their relationship up a notch...and will is going to be INCREDIBLY uncomfortable!
> 
> suggestions are always welcome!
> 
> hope you enjoyed this one ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal deal with what happened the previous night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a long time coming! Sorry for the wait! Basically, this is all kind of bullshit, no therapist would ACTUALLY do this, but it makes a good story, so...

The next morning is a hangover haze of half-remembered conversation and the scent of fresh brewed coffee. His shots lay folded neatly on the dresser, and Will pulls them on with a blush before swallowing his embarrassment and sliding up his jeans. It wouldn’t do to dwell on what happened last night.

When Will enters the kitchen, he is welcomed by a fully-dressed, breakfast-wielding Hannibal, and the two enjoy a lovely meal together. It’s as if the previous night hadn’t happened at all, and for that, Will is thankful. _No need to complicate the already-complicated._

“Ah, Will, one more thing before you go…” Hannibal says as Will is just about to walk out the door and begin his drive back to Wolf Trap, “Would you be available to take a phone call this evening, say around ten o’clock? I would like to discuss something with you, but am unfortunately occupied until later on in the evening.”

“Oh, uh, sure. I’ll…I’ll keep my phone handy.” _Strange, but then again, Hannibal is an incredibly strange guy. And I’ll probably be awake anyways, so why not?_

“Excellent. Drive safely, and I’ll talk to you tonight.” Hannibal’s eyes held a glittering speck of something… _sneaky_ , but perhaps it was all part of Will’s imagination?

_Whatever, I have dogs at home to feed._

At exactly ten o’clock that night, Will’s phone vibrates on the kitchen table. Winston— _good ol’ Winston_ —is the only one of Will’s seven dogs to react, and even then, he only gave a tilt of his head in Will’s general direction. Will picks up the phone with a sigh and answers the call.

“Ah, Doctor Lecter,” Will mumbles, picking up his glass of water and taking a sip, “right on time.”

**“Punctuality is very important to me. It would be rude to keep you waiting, especially at this time of night. I do apologize for making such a late call.”**

“’S not a problem. I wasn’t doing anything in particular tonight.” _I don’t do anything in particular ever, really…_

 **“Perhaps that is best. Relaxation is vital to maintaining a healthy lifestyle.”** A pause. **“I must confess, I was not entirely truthful with you this morning.”**

_What the hell did he lie about this morning? Were those eggs not really eggs at all?_

**“I called you under false pretense… I did not have a prior engagement this evening, but I figured you would be more amenable to the idea of a late-night talk if there was no other alternative. I ask you to forgive this slight, for it truly is in your best interest that we begin treatment right away.”**

“Whoa, wait, treatment for what?”

**“For your dreams, of course. Our agreement included treatment, surely you remember?”**

_Oh, fuck me dearly, this is not going to be a good time…_

“I was hoping that you had, heh, forgotten about that part.”

**“Will, I know that you are uncomfortable with the situation, but it’s important that we confront your issues and do whatever we can to rectify them. With your permission, of course, I would like to try a guided meditation of sorts.”**

“Of sorts?”

**“Yes.”**

“I take it you’re not going to elaborate on that thought, Doctor Lecter?”

**“It would ruin the surprise.”**

_I bet the bastard is smirking right this minute…_

“Alright, fine,” Will huffs, “Uh, what do you want me to do?”

**“Are you alone?”**

“Do you even need to ask?”

**“Very well. I want you to get comfortable, Will. Turn out the lights in your bedroom and go lay down. A calming environment is key.”**

With a mumbled ‘alright,’ Will gets up from the kitchen table and shuffles his way past fur-covered friends to his bedroom at the back of his house.

“Alright, lights are off and I am laying down… _now_.” The bed creaks under his weight as he flops down. “What next.”

**“Would you please put the phone on speaker? You will need both hands free.”**

_Free for what?_

Will des not argue—what’s the point of arguing when he knows he’ll only lose?—and presses the speaker button.

“You’re uh…you’re on, I guess.”

**“Excellent. For this next part, I want you to close your eyes. Can you do that for me, Will?”**

“Sure?” He closes his eyes and waits for instruction. “Do you want me to, I dunno, take deep breaths or something?”

 **“If you think it would help you relax, you may.”** Hannibal pauses for a moment and lets out a light exhale before speaking again. **“For this next part, I need your complete trust. Do you trust me, Will?”**

“Mhmm, sure thing” Will hummed. _What’s the worst that could happen?_

**“Touch yourself.”**

“…Excuse me? Doctor Lecter, that…that’s…”

**“Unethical? Technically not, since you have never officially become my patient. You’d benefit from a fully conscious orgasm, I believe. I will also be able to talk you down from any panic you may experience. Let me help you take back your sexuality, Will. Let me give you control.”**

_Control? Yeah, but…phone sex with my therapist? Isn’t that a bit much? Then again, the man **has** washed my cum-stained underwear… Is this really that much worse?_

“Do you, uh, have you done this with your other patients?”

**“No, you are the first.”**

“…Where do you want me to start? I mean,” he gulps, “should I just kind of…grab it and go?”

**“Not quite. Why don’t you begin by removing your shirt?”**

Will sits up for a moment and pulls his worn white undershirt over his head, only to drop it unceremoniously on the floor.

“Okay, uh… I-It’s off.” The air is cool around Will’s naked chest, but the sensation is not unwelcome.

**“I want you to start by slowly becoming acquainted with your upper body. Trace the curve of your collarbone, feel the spaces between your ribs…enjoy yourself.”**

“So, like, foreplay or something?”

**“Exactly. One must not focus solely on the genitals when seeking pleasure—it is important to consider all areas of one’s self for a truly satisfying experience.”**

_Is this jacking off or a quest to reach nirvana? Whatever, maybe he has a point…_

Will begins by placing his left hand in the middle of his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of every breath pushed from his lungs. There is hardly anything erotic about it, but it’s still nice enough. He lets his hand roam, up towards his neck at first, then across to this right shoulder. He follows the slight curve of his breast downwards, to the point just above his navel, and then back to where he started.

**“Your body is an amazing, complex thing, and it deserves to be treated with respect and reverence. This is not about succumbing to baser needs, Will. You must make love to yourself the way you would make love to another.”**

Will allows his other hand to begin roaming his body now, relishing the sensation of skin prickling beneath his touch. Arousal stirs in his groin— _wait, when did that happen?—_ and his breathing has become just a tinge more labored. When one of his fingertips accidentally brushes over a nipple, he gasps in surprise. _Since when does that feel good?_

**“As you feel yourself becoming more aroused, allow your hands to wander further. Don’t think, just feel.”**

Will arches his back when his hands skate over his hips. He’s growing harder by the second, and _oh God I am probably not going to last very long_. There is something terribly erotic about masturbating to the sound of his therapist’s voice over the telephone—it’s just like having him _there_ , but without him actually being physically present.

“Doctor Lecter, I…please, tell me what to do next…” Will finds that he _likes_ having Hannibal tell him what to do—it’s easy, calming, and clears his head of anything but sensation and trivial thoughts.

**“I want you to remove your pants and begin to stroke yourself, keeping a nice, gentle rhythm. There is no need to rush.”**

Will doesn’t need to be told twice. His shorts are discarded in one graceless tug, and his right hand immediately grapples with the swollen flesh between his thighs. _Oooooh, fuck, it’s been forever since I’ve done this…_

**“Tell me about the dream you had last night.”**

For a moment, the pleasure is gone, and all Will can feel is the now-frantic thrumming of his heart.

“W-what? No, no, Hannibal… I can’t…”

**“Why not?”**

“It’s…this isn’t _appropriate_ , and, it, because, I…” _Because it was **you** in the dream, Hannibal. It made me realize how desperately I want you, how lonely I’ve been, how much I crave intimacy…but only from **you.** _

**“Will, please. It is important we work through this issue, not against it. You need to confront your feelings and release them.”**

“Dammit, Hannibal…”

**“Need I remind you of the second part of our bargain?”**

Will ponders for a moment, hand still splayed between his legs. _I should’ve known better to make a deal with this guy…but shit, I want this so badly. Maybe if I told him about it without actually telling him about it? I could just say I didn’t know the person getting me off?_

“Alright, just, uh… I… Where do you want me to begin?” Will chides himself for being anything _but_ a smooth operator, but then again, why would he need to be smooth? He’s on the phone with his therapist…who happens to be the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen… _fuck._

**“In the fantasy, were you alone, or were there others involved?”**

“Uh, there was…there was another person. A-a guy.” Will resumes his previous ministrations, fingers slowly trailing up and down his erection, sparks of pleasure traveling in their wake.

**“Did you know the person, either personally or not?”**

“I…I… N-no, I didn’t…” _He knows, he knows you’re lying, he can probably smell that too. You’re fucked, you’re fucked, you’re—_

**“Very well. What were you and this person doing?”**

“We… I was… He was sitting down, and I… I was… I was straddling him, I guess…” Will sucks in a deep breath to soothe his nerves— _fuck me, this feels so good_ —before continuing. “I was, uh, naked, but he…”

**“He was fully dressed?”**

“Yes,” Will hisses, his slow pace picking up speed, “and he was, uh, he was saying things as he, y’know…”

**“What was he saying, Will?”**

“He, uh… _oh, God_ …he told me… He knew about the thing with Shelby and I was so ashamed, but… But, _fuck_ , it was hot, and I _liked it_.” He is panting now, right hand massaging his cock while his left roams across his chest, teasing his nipples. It’s almost like he’s back in his dream, legs spread over Hannibal as the other man whispers into his ear.

**“Is that all?”**

“No, uh, he…he told me…he told me I was a good boy, and— _shit!_ ” Will moves his arm faster now, desperately chasing his pleasure with every stroke, collecting the beads of moisture that have begun to bubble up from his cock with his thumb and smearing it around the head.

**“It’s because you _are_ a good boy, Will. You’re very close now, aren’t you?”**

“ _Fuck_ , yes, I… Oh, God, Hannibal, I want you… I want to _ruin you_ , I want…no, I _need-_ ”

 **“Let go, Will. I want to hear you come undone.”**  

And come undone, he does—Will lets out a half-groan, half-keen as he is swallowed up by orgasm. He spills himself all over his chest and stomach, undulating his hips and grinding into his fist until the initial waves of pleasure have died down and he is left a panting, sated mess against mussed-up sheets. His lips form a sleepy smile— _God, I’m tired_ —and he sits up to grab a few tissues to clean himself off. As he wipes the cooling mess from his stomach, Hannibal’s voice is loud and clear over the phone line.

**“This has been a most enlightening experience, and I thank you for your cooperation. I believe we have much to discuss…although I’ll save that for another occasion. Goodnight, Will.”**

_Shit, oh, motherfucker, I forgot he was… Oh my God, he **heard** me, he **knows** I want him to fuck me. _

“W-wait, Hannibal, I-“

The line goes dead, and Will is left alone to stew in his embarrassment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EL OH EL WILL UR TOTES SCREWED  
> drop comments/suggestions/etc in the comments section, or pop on over to my blog at mean-cannibals.tumblr.com
> 
> EDIT: guys i need help. what kind of smut do you want in the next chapter? some mid-therapy blowjobs? a little touchy-touchy feely-feely? or some straight-up sweet first time lovin' after dinner? 
> 
> help a sistah out, amigos.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after their little chat brings some surprises for Will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahahahha i have no idea what im doing anymore this fic has jumped tracks bah whatever i'm having a jolly old time so that's that
> 
> also, i think i've got some really great one-liners in this one so yay?

The next morning, a sunshine-y Saturday, Will awakes to two concerned dogs and a buzzing cell phone. Applesauce and Winston watch their owner reluctantly sit up in his bed— _fuck, I haven’t slept that well in ages_ —and snatch the buzzing device from the bedside table. He clicks a few buttons absentmindedly, and _oh would you look at that, I got me one of them there text messages. Hot diggity damn, it’s my lucky day._

“Hey, Winston,” Will says, turning his attention to the dog closest to his bed, “do you think you could teach me how to play dead so I don’t have to talk to anybody? There’s some extra kibble in it for ya…”

Winston looks at Will for a moment, as if considering his offer…and then promptly walks away to go lay down in his bed.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t take that deal either,” Will chuckles in response, “the kibble I give you looks terrible. One could say that it looks like… _a dog’s breakfast!_ Ah? Aaaaaaaah? _Get it?_ ” None of his dogs laugh. _My humor is wasted on you cute, fluffy bastards…_

Will’s generally jovial mood is ruined, though, when he looks down at the aforementioned text message.

**_Good morning, Will. I would like to request your presence at my dinner table this evening at 7 o’clock, if you’re free of course. I feel that we have much to discuss. – Hannibal Lecter._ **

_Well fuck me sideways with a shish kebab, this is going to be awkward as hell. I mean, even **more** awkward than before. I didn’t think it was possible, but I did it. I have reached the boss-level of awkward. My mother would be oh-so-proud, I’m sure…_

Will quickly types a short reply accepting the invitation, _because what’s the point of refusing, really? Might as well get this out of the way…_

“So, uh, Doctor Lecter…” Will says, shoving a forkful of something amazing and unpronounceable into his mouth, “Look, I know why I’m here, and I know what you wanna talk about, and I’d rather just get it over with so I can go home and drown my sorrows in cheap beer and cheese puffs."

“I am not entirely sure what a… _cheese puff_ is, but it sounds unhealthy.”

“Oh, they’re absolutely terrible. And delicious.” Will takes a small sip of wine— _damn that’s some good stuff_ —and sets his fork down with a metallic clatter. “Last night, I… I didn’t mean what I said… I just got caught up in the moment, and I… _God,_ Hannibal, I am _so sorry._ ”

“Will, please-“

“No, Hannibal, I… I ruined everything. I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable or anything… _shit_ , this must be a terrible position for you to be in, and it’s _all my fault_!”

“Will-“

“And I _completely_ understand if you don’t want to continue seeing me, because what I did was highly inappropriate and I would take it back if I could…”

“ _William!”_ Hannibal’s voice is firmer than usual, and Will immediately mutters a quick ‘sorry’ and stuffs a heaping amount of food into his mouth in an attempt to stay silent. “I apologize for raising my voice, but there’s something I would like to contribute to the conversation. May I speak?”

“Yeah, o-of course, uh, go ahead…”

“Thank you.” He sets his own fork and knife down and picks up his own glass of wine. “I have been aware of your attraction towards me for a few weeks now. You have a few very obvious—well, obvious to _me_ , at least—tells, so to speak. Last night was, as a whole, an experiment…to see if you would ultimately confess your desires, or if you would continue to repress them. I cannot say I wasn’t pleased when you accidentally admitted that you were fantasizing about me…”

“Wait, really?” Will nearly drops his wine glass in shock. _Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit..._ “Are you saying you’d…like to…date me?”

“Indeed, which is why I invited you over for dinner tonight. I wanted to discuss the possibility of starting a relationship, one that is both physical and emotional. I think it would benefit both of us greatly if we were to explore each other intimately.”

_‘Explore each other intimately?’ I didn’t realize this was a Christian school sex-ed course._

“…So you wanna sleep with me?” The words come out of Will’s mouth surprisingly easily, and Will silently thanks every god in existence that he didn’t throw up or pass out at the notion. Sex has always made him uneasy, probably due to a very uncomfortable chat with his father early on in his life.

Hannibal seems to bite back something very chuckle-like. _Is he even physically able to chuckle? That doesn’t really seem like his kind of thing._

“Among other things, yes. Very much so.”

“Alright…” Will considers for a moment, eyes fixed on the small gulp of wine left swirling in his glass. _As if you even need to consider, you’ve been literally dreaming of this moment for weeks! It’s now or never, Graham. Do not let this opportunity pass you by._ “Uh, I mean, I’d…like to…y’know…”

“I am more than willing to wait for you, Will, if that’s your main concern.” He smirks. “I am nothing if not patient, especially when it comes to that which I greatly desire.”

“No, no, I don’t…” Will inhales sharply. “I don’t want to wait. I…I want this. Soon. Uh. T-tonight, if…y’know…you’re not busy?”

“I must admit, I was not expecting you to accept my offer so readily.”

“Yeah, heh, me neither. I just…I want this. I-I want you. And if I don’t do this now, I know I’ll regret it.” He gives a nervous laugh. “Besides, I think I’ve waited long enough to, y’know, do the deed. If I can get a full night’s sleep from just hearing your voice when I get off, I can only imagine what’ll happen if you put your hands on me.”

“The wine has made you brazen, Will. I shall have to serve it to you more often.”

“Maybe it’s not the wine.” Will reaches across the table and sets his hand atop Hannibal’s in a moment of, yes, wine-fuelled bravery. _Honestly, Graham, it wasn’t even a full glass, you’re not even tipsy yet…_ “M-maybe…maybe I just want you to…to… _ravish_ me.”

“Then we best proceed to the bedroom, don’t you think?” Hannibal rises from the chair, taking Will’s hand with him. Will has no choice to arise as well.

“And leave the dishes?” Will chuckles. “Very unlike you.”

“Yes, but, you see, Will,” Hannibal says, stepping forward and pulling Will into a heated embrace, “I have _much more pressing_ matters to attend to this evening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ba-doom-boom GET READY SMUT TRAIN IS PULLING INTO THE STATION  
> drop comments/suggestions/etc either here or at mean-cannibals.tumblr.com if you feel so inclined  
> <3 thanks for reading bbies <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut chapter! Get ready for sexy touching and stuff :)

What had started as a tender kiss in the dining room has now evolved into a full-on make out session on Hannibal’s bed. The two are a mess of limbs and sighs, like two teenagers fumbling in the dark, and it’s better than Will could have ever dreamed. He’s seated atop Hannibal’s thighs, legs locked tightly around the doctor’s waist as he unconsciously grinds his hips against the other man’s stomach.

“Will,” Hannibal rasps, pulling away from the younger man, “as much as I enjoy this, would you mind if I changed our positioning a bit?”

_Oh my God, what does that even mean? Is he going to take his hand off of my ass? Because, to be perfectly honest, I’d rather not have him take his hand off of my ass._

“Y-yeah, uh, sure…” And before Will is able to register what’s happening, he’s seated on the edge of the bed while Hannibal kneels at his feet. With a wicked grin, Hannibal’s hands trace slowly up Will’s thighs, higher and higher, until they rested on his belt. “May I?”

“Oh, you wanna…? Uh, y-yeah, I, uh… I, heh, can’t say I’d mind that.” _Smooth, Graham. The man asks to take off your pants, and you start babbling. No wonder you’ve been celibate all these years._

Nimble fingers undid the clasp of his belt in seemingly no time at all while Will gripped the sheets below his fingers. _Please, please don’t let this be a dream. If I wake up before this man’s mouth is on my dick I will punch myself in the face and scrub the resulting wounds with rock salt._

“Good.” Hannibal says as he tugs at the waistband of Will’s jeans. Will awkwardly shifts his hips so Hannibal can slide his pants down his legs…but Hannibal stops before they’re all the way off.

“Uh, why did you— _oh_ , right, shoes. Here, let me…”

“Nonsense, Will.” Hannibal pulls at the laces on his left shoe first, the knot all but dissolving at his touch, and slides it from his foot. “Let me take care of you.”

“Oh, uh, okay…” Will stammers, and it’s oddly intimate, having another person undress him like this—even if it’s only the shoes that have come off so far. Hannibal offers a small smile before undoing the second shoe as quickly and as reverently as the first, then placed neatly by the foot of the bed with its mate.

His jeans are the next thing to go, and without the denim bunching around his calves, Will feels slightly less ridiculous. _It’s not like he hasn’t seen you this way before… Hell, the second time you talked to him, you were wearing even less than you are now!_  

Hannibal then takes his left leg again and begins to slide his hand up his calf slowly, as if he’s memorizing the way the muscles feel with every slight shudder Will can’t help but give, before catching the top of his plain black sock and sliding it off his foot.

“You are absolutely lovely,” Hannibal says, pressing a kiss to the inside of Will’s newly-exposed ankle before moving to remove the other sock.

“They’re feet, Hannibal,” He huffs, “uh, unless you’re…into that sort of thing… Because it’s totally okay if you do, I-I mean…”

“I appreciate feet, however I do not experience any intense sexual attraction to them.” Hannibal takes a moment to look up at the nervous man sitting on the bed and places a comforting hand on his knee. “You have nothing to fear, Will. I promise not to make you uncomfortable.”

 _Nothing to fear? Are you being serious right now? I’ve got about twelve different things to worry about in this very instant, and at least seven of them have to do with you being so attractive I feel like I could cum at any second._       

“I’m not… God, I’m not… _uncomfortable_ , I just…” He takes a deep breath, trying to quell his rising nerves, “I d-don’t want to disappoint you or anything… I mean, _fuck_ , you heard me last night, I don’t exactly…have stamina on my side here…”

“Yes, that is true, but I have a way to fix that.” Hannibal smiles wickedly and reaches for the waist of his jeans once more, pulling them off in one fluid motion. He lets his hands creep up Will’s thighs, causing the younger man to shiver in anticipation. Will’s erection strains against the fabric of his shorts, a tiny pinprick dot of fluid seeping through the fabric, and he winces as Hannibal looks at it with a scrutinizing, hungry eye.

“Oh, yeah? Enlighten me.” _And if it’s in the form of a little blue pill, I swear to God, I will take my shoe and shove it right up your—_

“As you wish.”

Hannibal wastes no time in yanking down Will’s shorts, and Will gives a yelp of surprise when he throws them over his shoulder.

“Whoa, uh-“

Two hands grip his hips and tug him closer to the edge of the bed, and Will is helpless to stop himself from sliding forward and surrendering to the man in front of him. Without breaking eye contact, Hannibal grasps the base of Will’s shaft and lowers his head to kiss the swollen head.

_Wait…he…mouth…on…penis…mine…my penis…he put his…his mouth…on…my…penis…_

When Hannibal’s lips close around him and begin working the skin up and down with gentle bobs of his head, Will instinctively reaches forward to run his fingers through the other man’s hair, earning a throat-rumbling growl from Hannibal. He looks down at the kneeling man and notices a slight bulge in the front of his trousers—he’s _aroused_ , Will realizes. He _likes_ this.

_Jesus, fuck, this is…this is incredible. I guess a guy who likes food so much would be good with his mouth, but shit, this man deserves a medal. Of course, I’m not exactly a connoisseur of having my dick sucked, but I dunno man, I feel like he has a real natural talent…_

“Oh, shit, Hanni— _fuck, Hannibal,_ I’m getting close-“ Will grips his hair harder, and Hannibal responds with a particularly maddening swirl of his tongue. He can feel the beginnings of orgasm nipping at his senses, and he starts to feel a tad panicky. _What the hell is the protocol for this? Would it be rude to come down this man’s throat without asking permission? And if it isn’t okay, then what do I do? He doesn’t seem like the ‘facial’ kind of guy, and I really like the shirt I’m wearing…_

“Seriously, Hannibal, s-stop, I’m gonna-“

But, despite Will’s whined resquests, Hannibal does not stop. In fact, he seems to re-double his efforts, fingers digging into Will’s hips and tongue moving sinfully against his length. It’s so damn _good_ , better than any late-night masturbation session, better than any wet-dream he’s ever been able to cook up in his brain, and he finally surrenders to sensation and lets go completely.    

Will climaxes with a high-pitched whine, fingers still twisted in Hannibal’s now-mussed hair. Hannibal lets Will’s release flood his mouth in three bursts, the salty, sticky fluid coating his tongue in a unique but not unpleasant flavor, before swallowing it down.

“Are you quite alright, Will?” Hannibal says with a chuckle, after releasing Will’s softening cock from his lips, “You look rather gobsmacked.”

_I am dead. I am dead because you killed me._

“Yeah…I…” Will sighs, “You, uh… _wow._ ”

Hannibal smiles once more— _damn, he’s beautiful when he smiles_ —and rises up from his knees to sit next to Will on the bed. He half-embraces Will with his arm, and Will leans into the touch, allowing Hannibal to support the both of them for the time being.

“Thank you for the compliment, Will. I must say, you are delicious…in more ways than one.”

“Oh, uh…heh, I want to say that I try…but I really didn’t try. At all. As you could probably tell…” Will feels his cheeks turn bright cherry-red for the hundredth time that evening, but he’s too hazy to care. He notices the bulge in Hannibal’s pants has increased in size, and suddenly feels very guilty. “Oh, uh…do you…do you want me to? I-I mean, I don’t really know how to…y’know…g-give oral, but I, uh…”

“Oh, Will,” Hannibal says, gently pushing the younger man down so he is lying flat on Hannibal’s bed. “I am not _nearly_ finished with you yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, i'm open to suggestions! drop 'em here or at my tumblr: mean-cannibals.tumblr.com
> 
> thanks for reading, guys <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexing, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i split the actual sexing chapter in two parts since i wanted to do the whole thing justice... i'll do my best to have the next part done ASAP!

“You mean…you, uh, you wanna…y’know…” Will gulps, “ _fuck_ me.”

“Essentially, yes,” Hannibal says, fiddling with the top button of Will’s shirt as he presses soft, sensuous kisses to the other man’s neck, “If you’ll have me, of course.”

_Something tells me I’m the one who’s gonna be ‘had’ here, bucko. Even I can’t get it up again that quickly…_

“Um, o-okay, I…I’d like that…” He feels Hannibal smile into his pulse point, teeth barely grazing the skin. It sends a shiver up his spine.

“Excellent. Now,” Hannibal pops the first button on Will’s shirt expertly, “let’s see about getting the rest of these clothes off, hm?”

While nimble fingers work at the rest of Will’s clothing, Will’s hands remain balled into fists at his sides. Now that his mind isn’t clouded by lust anymore, he feels a twinge of fear.

“You’re allowed to touch me, you know,” Hannibal takes Will’s hands and places them against his still-clothed chest. He’s warm, solid underneath his waistcoat and shirt, and it makes Will’s blood run hot. “In fact, it would please me greatly if you did…”

“I-I, uh, what do you want me to, ah, _do_ exactly? I’m, uh, I’m a-a little new at this.”

“I believe I have more than enough buttons to keep you occupied for the moment. You could start there, if you like.”

Will stammers out a laugh, a half-choked thing really, and begins working on the large, fabric-covered buttons of the other man’s waistcoat. They’re easy enough to handle, thankfully, _because it’s difficult to concentrate on pretty much anything when another very sexy man is running his hands up your newly-exposed chest. Seriously, he’s a fucking babe…in an unresolved daddy-issues kind of way. Or maybe just in a sexy way._

After the waistcoat is discarded (and Hannibal undoes his tie, _thank God, I could never have figured that paisley enigma out_ ), Will makes quick work of the other man’s shirt buttons, because he has only just now realized how incredibly naked he is—an unbuttoned shirt doesn’t cover much up, after all. He’s about to mention how unfair the situation is, but then he pushes the shirt from Hannibal’s shoulders and—

_Holy shit! The man is **stacked!**_

“Are you quite alright, Will?” Hannibal lets his shirt fall to the floor and stands in all his bare-chested glory. “Or is this moving too quickly? We can stop at any time…”

“ _No_ ,” Will growls, “You… _shit_ , Hannibal, you’re…” _Perfect. Delicious. Hairy. That last one is a hell of a curve ball, but I like it._

“Don’t tell me,” Hannibal says, pressing his chest to Will’s as he removes Will’s old plaid shirt, “show me.”

Before Will has time to flinch away, Hannibal grabs each of his wrists. His right hand is guided to Hannibal’s shoulder, and his left is dragged around his waist…only it doesn’t stop until Will has a palm-full of Hannibal’s ass.

“Much better,” Hannibal snickers, bringing his face to rest against Will’s. “Nothing is off-limits. I want you to get to know me as intimately as you know yourself.”

Will gasps, and involuntarily squeezes the flesh beneath his left hand, which earns a growl of praise from the man in his arms. _My God, this man has the kind of ass people devote entire raps to! Now get in there, Graham, the man **wants** you. The time for nerves is up._

Feeling emboldened by Hannibal’s response, Will tightens his grip and pulls Hannibal’s hips against his own, pressing his lips to the pulse point in the other man’s neck.

“Oh, _Will_ ,” Hannibal sighs, “You’re making it incredibly difficult to hold back…”

“Then, uh,” Will says into his skin, “m-maybe you shouldn’t hold back anymore.”

Hannibal pulls away for a moment, head cocked to the side as he eyes a blush-covered Will.

“Are you certain about that?” He takes his hand and gently brushes a wayward curl behind Will’s ear. “Because, even though I am a man of considerable restraint, I may not be able to stop myself so easily.”

“I know, I-I just… Like this, I’m thinking too much, and if…maybe if we, y’know, move things along a little quicker, I, uh, I might not be so nervous. If that’s okay, I mean…”

“I certainly would not be adverse to that,” Hannibal smiles wickedly, “but I find myself to be a little overdressed for the occasion…”

“Oh, uh, s-sure, let me just-“ Will reaches to undo the other man’s belt. His fingers are shaking, and even though he tries his absolute best to fumble with the leather and metal contraption, not much progress is made. “I, uh, I-I’m sorry, this is, ah, different—y’know doing this for someone else.”

“Will, please,” Hannibal takes Will’s hands away from his belt and brings them up to his lips, planting a kiss on each one, “I’ll take care of this. Why don’t you go get comfortable, and I’ll be with you in a moment, yes?”

“O-okay, uh…” Will turns to face the bed, and freezes. _Wait a minute, which side do I lay on?_ With the covers pulled up and the lights down low, it’s impossible to tell which side looks more slept-in. _Then again, maybe the middle would be best—don’t need anyone falling off the bed mid-thrust._

Will sat down on the edge and brought his legs up, feeling very bashful about the idea of being penetrated for the first time by another person. _Or would he want me to top?_ Will scoots to the middle of the mattress, stealing a glance in Hannibal’s direction and catching him unbuttoning his pants. _No, no, he’s definitely going to top. He’s got that whole alpha-male vibe going on, and honestly, I don’t think I’m up for topping just yet. Too much responsibility. Also, I saw something about a guy breaking his penis during sex on TV one time, and I really don’t want that to happen…_

The mattress dips down beside him, and all thoughts of broken penises disappear from Will’s head as he comes face-to-face with a very naked Hannibal Lecter.  

“Now, dearest Will, shall we continue where we left off?”

Before he can think of it, before he can stop himself, Will grabs Hannibal by the back of his neck and pulls him into a clumsy-sweet kiss. He feels Hannibal smile against his lips. There is something calming about the gesture, and Will relaxes into the kiss because of it.

Soon, their movements become tinged in fever, legs wrapping around each other while arms grope and grasp at everything they can reach. Hannibal’s arousal nudges insistently at Will’s hip, and Will reaches a shy hand down to lightly stroke the heated flesh.

 _Not bad…not bad at all. Now, I’m no connoisseur of dicks, but I like what I feel down there._ He’s gentle, hesitant even, but Hannibal rewards his ministrations with perfectly-timed gasps and whispered praises. When he swipes his thumb across the weeping head of Hannibal’s cock, the older man lets out a breathy moan, a single syllable which could have been his name, and that’s all the validation Will needs. The man wants Will, and Will wants him back. It’s time.

“Hannibal, I…” Will stammers, pulling away from the other man’s kisses, “I-I think, uh, I think I’m ready. I mean…”

Hannibal smiles widely, turning on his side and reaching for the slim bottle of lubricant that had somehow ended up on the bedside table. He placed it on the bed between them and gives Will a quick peck on the cheek.

“Let’s begin, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2, 4, 6, 8  
> GET READY TO PENETRATE  
> yeah that's next on the menu, so stay tuned!  
> if you want, drop me a comment here or at mean-cannibals.tumblr.com  
> <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally have sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaay sex chapter nice d00d  
> i tried but idk how it turned out sooooo yeah hope it's a good read!

“I hope you don’t mind me asking,” Hannibal says as he liberally coats two of his fingers in lubricant, “but have you ever penetrated yourself during masturbation? Because if there’s something in particular that you enjoy, let me know—I’d be more than willing to take direction.”

“Oh, uh…” Will can’t tear his eyes away from the slick-coated fingers— _I cannot believe this is actually happening_ —and it takes a moment for the question to sink in. “Well, I, uh, I guess you could say I’ve… _experimented_ with it, but n-nothing ever felt right. I would…I think I got, um, t-too embarrassed to really _feel_ anything, I guess.”

“Understandable,” Hannibal replies as he brings the fingers slowly down between Will’s legs, “but I do hope you know that there is nothing shameful about pleasure, especially between you and I.”

The first touch of Hannibal’s fingers is surprisingly warm and deliciously wet— _of course he’d try to warm it up first, fucking piece of shit wonderful gentleman._ His touch is gentle, calming even, as he draws tight circles around Will’s entrance.  

It’s strange, having this man’s left arm around his shoulders while his right arm works between his legs. Will allows his head to rest against Hannibal’s chest, listening to the steady _thump-thumping_ of his heard while trying to match his breathing to the other man’s.

When the first finger breaches him, Will gasps. It’s a strange and foreign feeling, and while it’s not unpleasant, Will is growing more uncomfortable at an alarming rate. _Not surprising—a hot, naked man has his finger up your ass. This isn’t just another Friday night for you, Graham._

“Are you alright, Will?” Hannibal breathes, lips nearly touching his temple as he spoke. “You feel a little tense.”

“Uh, I, u-uh, I…” Will squeezes his eyes shut as his cheeks burn in shame, “I-It’s just a-a little…uh…it’s _different_ than, uh, from, the…from the last time I…y’know…”

“Is it a ‘good’ different?” Hannibal’s voice hums through his against Will’s cheek while his index finger continues to slide in and out of his body in a lazy motion.  

“It’s, uh, it’s...” Suddenly, Hannibal moves his finger _just so_ , and Will is struck with a jolt of pleasure, “ _Jesus,_ Hannibal, w-what-“

“Ah-ha, found it.” Hannibal’s finger retreats for a moment and then hits the spot again, making Will whine, “The prostate is very sensitive to stimulation, but some men either ignore it or cannot seem to locate it—truly a shame, in either case.”

“Well, uh, I…I-I liked it, and, uh…yeah.”

“I knew you would.”

Before long, there is a second finger in with the first, stretching and sliding in and out with smooth motions of Hannibal’s arm. It burns, yes, but Will also gets an incredible feeling of _fullness_ from the act that he decides he quite likes.

 _He’s actually pretty good at this, y’know, the whole patience-things and all. Or maybe he just likes sticking his fingers up another guy’s ass? Hey, different strokes for different folks. It’s not like I’m in any position to judge…_  

“You are doing so well, Will,” Hannibal whispers as he scissors his fingers one last time, “I think you’re ready for me, hm?”

Will sighs in disappointment when the fingers leave him. _Never thought I’d be so put-out by the cessation of anal probing. Maybe I should go lay down in a cornfield sometime and see if any aliens want to experiment on me sometime… Wait a minute, what the fuck am I thinking?_

In the meantime, Hannibal has fiddled around in his bedside drawer and is now tearing open a little foil packet— _ah, yes, condom time. Heh, it’s making his dick look like a sausage—y’know with the plastic casing and all? ...Oh my God, Graham, seriously? Why would you be thinking about sausages at a time like this?_

“Is everything alright, Will? You seem to be lost in thought.”

_Oh, yeah, everything’s just peachy keen._

“Mhmm, uh, I-I’m fine.”

“Are you certain? We can stop, if you’re feeling uncomfortable…” Hannibal is pressed against him once more, one hand idly stroking the soft skin of Will’s thigh and the other carding through Will’s curls. “Although I must admit, I would hate to see you put your clothes back on so soon. You are absolutely _delicious_ like this.”

“ _No_ —uh, I mean, n-no, I don’t want to stop… It’s, uh, just me overthinking things, like always.” He places his hand over Hannibal’s and squeezes gently. “Uh, how do you…how do you want me?”

“On your back, I think. Would you please spread your legs and draw your knees up to your chest? Yes, just like that, very good…”

Hannibal climbs into position, hips pressed against the back of Will’s thighs and a strong hand clasped over Will’s shoulder. Their faces are mere inches from each other until Hannibal closes the gap between their lips with a slow, passionate kiss. Will can feel the blunted tip of Hannibal’s erection against his entrance, and he shudders.

“Are you ready, Will?”

“I…” Will looks down between their entwined bodies, genuinely surprised how the two seemed to fit together effortlessly. _Alright, Graham, it’s now or never. Time to get busy._ “Y-yes, I… Please, Hannibal, I-I want this.”

“This may be a bit uncomfortable at first,” Hannibal says, pressing forward between Will’s legs, “but I promise to be gentle.”

Will closes his eyes and wraps his arms around Hannibal’s back—well, as much as he’s able—and does his best to control his breathing. _It’s okay, this is Hannibal. He’ll be good to you. Oh, God, I can feel him… Y’know, it’s rather difficult to relax when being impaled on another guy’s cock. Fuck, that feels strange._

Hannibal, true to his word, takes care in inserting himself into Will. When Will does so much as grimace, he draws back slightly and gives him a moment to adjust. With every whimper or groan that passes Will’s lips, he’s quick to shush with a kiss or a whispered praise against his stubbled cheek.

It’s when Hannibal stops pushing forward when Will finally opens his eyes. He is met by Hannibal’s face hovering inches above his own, hair mussed and looking mildly concerned.

“Are you experiencing any pain?”

“N-no, uh, just feels a little full.” Will wriggles into a more comfortable position and dares to wrap his legs around Hannibal’s lower back. _Let’s do this._ “C-can you, uh, can you…move? I…I really want you to…”

Hannibal’s expression morphs into a small smile as he draws his hips back and rocks forward, causing Will to gasp.

“Like this?”

“Oh, yeah, p-please, please do that again, I-“ He’s cut off by another thrust and he hears Hannibal chuckle against his neck.

“Whatever you wish, dear Will.”

They start up a rhythm of slow, gentle thrusts and open-mouthed kisses peppering every inch of skin within reach. Will is a mess of gasps and sighs, eyes pressed tight in response to the enjoyable burn that permeated his lower regions. The original discomfort Will had felt is now fleeting, leaving a nice, slow-burning pleasure in its wake. He barely registers that his cock is once again erect and straining against his stomach—he has always been sensitive in that regard, which is both a blessing and a curse.

_Fuck, I’m getting kind of close again. I should’ve known he’d be good at this, too—I mean, come on, the man is good at just about everything! But seriously, this is much more…intimate than I thought it would be. A lot more personal than the quick fuck I was anticipating. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that Hannibal’s making love to me…_

The pace quickens, and with it brings a whole new set of sensations for Will. Hannibal’s lips are now pressed right above his ear and a strong hand has found its way beneath his back so that the other man can move Will’s body with him. Will tries grinding his hips down in time with the thrusts, earning a growl from Hannibal’s throat.

“ _Yes,_ Will,” Hannibal pants, “Touch yourself. I want you to come for me.”

Will doesn’t need to be told twice. His hand leaves its perch from the back of Hannibal’s neck and wraps itself around his leaking cock. He strokes himself almost frantically, timing be _damned_. _I need it and I need it **now**._

“H-Hannibal, I-I-“ is all the warning Will is able to give before he’s spilling between them, muscles contracting around Hannibal’s length as it slides into him once, twice, thrice, before Hannibal comes with a groan. Of course, that’s what Will supposes had happened—he’s too lost in his own pleasure to notice much of anything. He thinks he shouts something as he comes—hopefully nothing _too_ embarrassing—and shudders as his orgasm finally dies down.

The next few moments are a post-orgasmic blur for Will—he feels Hannibal remove himself from his body, which would probably feel very strange if Will wasn’t so out of it, and a gentle hand cleans the mess from his stomach with a handful of tissues. He wants so much to look at Hannibal, to thank him and tell him how wonderful it was, but the tug of sleep is too strong. Perhaps they could talk in the morning, then.

The last thing he remembers is the whisper of sheets against his skin, a strong arm wrapping around his middle, and a gentle kiss pressed into his temple before he falls into a dreamless sleep.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, thar she be. sexy chapter.   
> man i don't write smut too entirely well, so i hope this was okay. i'm practicing ;)  
> leave comments down here or at mean-cannibals.tumblr.com if you want!  
> <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did my best to add some closure, and even though it's not perfect, i think it wraps things up quite nicely

_Birds chirping. Sunlight warm on my face. A soft bed. Fresh, clean smell. Minor anal soreness._

_Wait, what?_

Will’s eyes snap open. He’s in a strange bed, in a strange house, and…yep, sleeping right next to him is the strangest man he has ever met.

There are many things Will is concerned about, including but not limited to:

1)      He is naked.

2)      He is naked in Hannibal Lecter’s bed.

3)      He is naked in Hannibal Lecter’s bed with Hannibal Lecter.

4)      Hannibal Lecter is…oh, yep, also _very naked_.

5)      Hannibal Lecter is _hot as fuck_ when naked.

Will’s cock twitches as he considers the man to his left— _seriously, he’s attractive even when unconscious, how does that even happen?_ —and he allows himself a small smile. Not only did he finally, _finally_ get laid, but he got laid by a really cute guy.

He lifts the sheet that covers them both just enough to peek at the man beneath them. It’s easier to see now that his eyes aren’t clouded by lust and the room is lit by the mid-morning sun. He starts with Hannibal’s feet, surprisingly long and thin, and drags his gaze up past the flare of his calves, the protrusion of his knees, the muscles of his thighs...and finally, what lies between them. Will blushes beet red—Hannibal is half-hard, uncut, and absolutely _stunning_ , in a strange, good-God-it’s-only-a-penis-get-ahold-of-yourself way. Will wants to reach out and touch, to feel the skin swell beneath his fingers, to wring heavy sighs from Hannibal’s throat, to-

“Good morning, Will.”

Will drops the sheet like it’s made of fire and his arms snap into place at his sides. _Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh Christ on a grilled cheese, I’ve been caught staring at his junk._

“Oh, uh. Hey there. You’re…you’re awake. I was just…”

“Enjoying the view?” Hannibal has the tiniest wicked grin on his face— _fuck me, I knew he’d notice._

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that…”

“Nonsense, Will,” Hannibal tuts, “You’re more than welcome to look at me as much as you like…as long as I’m able to do the same with you.”

“Why, Doctor Lecter,” Will gasps, feigning surprise, “are you flirting with me?”

“That depends,” Hannibal replies, pulling Will close by the waist and nuzzling into his neck, “Is it working?”

Will gasps when he feels the warmth of Hannibal’s body next to him and kisses being pressed onto the sensitive skin right under his ear. He’s already getting hard again, and _fuck all if Hannibal doesn’t already know._

“All attempts at charm aside, dear Will, how are you feeling?”

His lips have left Will’s neck for now, and he’s propped himself up on one arm so that he may look Will in the eye. It’s unsettling for Will, who doesn’t like eye contact on a good day, but there’s something about Hannibal’s expression that’s warm, concerned, and relaxing.

“I feel like there’s a naked man lying next to me.”

“Although that is true, I was referring to your physical wellbeing. Are you in any pain?”

“I, uh…I mean, it’s a little tender, uh,” Will gestures vaguely at his lower body, “y’know, _down there_ , but I, I think that’s normal? And anyways, it’s not even that bad. You…you, uh, did a good job…”

“I’m glad to hear it. Now, I must ask you another, _highly_ important question.” Hannibal pauses for a beat, taking in the slightly frightened expression on Will’s face.

“What would you like for breakfast?”

* * *

 

“I must admit,” Will says, scooping a final forkful of pancake into his mouth, “I normally _hate_ breakfast foods, but this…this is incredible. I haven’t been that hungry in ages.”

“Your hunger is understandable,” Hannibal replies, taking a sip of his mimosa— _Mimosas?_ _Really? Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable—_ “considering the amount of physical activity you partook in last evening.”

“Perhaps,” Will says, “but if I remember correctly, it was _you_ doing most of the work.”

Hannibal chuckles.

“That may be the case, but my dear Will, you were _hardly_ a passive participant.” He notices the way Will bristles at the comment, “Are you regretting what happened last night?”

“Wha—no!” Will sputters, “God, I… It’s just a little _surreal_ , y’know? Like I never in a million years thought I’d get to have sex with you, and now… Oh God, _you_ aren’t regretting what we did, are you?”

“Certainly not,” Hannibal cuts in with a smile, “In fact, I was hoping we could do it again sometime. I enjoy your company very much, Will, both in and out of the bedroom.”

“It sounds like you want to have a relationship with me…”

“And what if I do?”

Will freezes on the spot. _Oh shit, he wants to be my boyfriend. Or would it be man-friend? Partner? Guy who brings me lunch at work sometimes and takes me out on dates? Does this mean I’ll have permission to touch his butt whenever I want?_

“Of course, we needn’t take that step if you aren’t ready yet, Will. It was merely a suggestion.”

“No, no, I uh… I’d be alright with that. If, uh, if you’re into it, of course.”

“Indeed, I am.” Hannibal stands, and Will follows suit, “Although we can discuss particulars later. Right now, I would love to coax you back into bed…if you’re amenable to the idea, that is?”

“Absolutely,” Will smirks, reaching over and grasping Hannibal’s hand in his own, “I would be more than amenable. You’re the best I ever had.”

And so they went, hand-in-hand, leaving the dirty dishes on the table. After all, they had something _much more pressing_ to attend to at the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND WE'RE DONE  
> (most likely)  
> thank you all for your amazing support-- i couldn't have/ wouldn't have done this without you guys!   
> lots of love <3  
> (also, feedback is always appreciated, either here in the comments or on tumblr at mean-cannibals.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> OOOOOOOH SNAP WILL WHATCHU GON DO?!?  
> I'll try to get the second chapter up soon!  
> Hope you like :)
> 
> (PS: Feel free to visit me on tumblr at mean-cannibals.tumblr.com!)


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